I returned home after finally finishing
my studies at school. My father had called informing me of
my brother's untimely death and that I would have to assume
responsibility of the family estate. My mother had died during
my birth. So I grew up around a family of all men, it wasn't
always an easy environment. I always had trouble adapting
to the "upper class" lifestyle.
When I told my father I wanted to go to school in Europe he
was less than ecstatic. Though with a little arguing and a
few well placed from my brother who always looked upon me with
better favor than my father did. So when my father had written
and said my brother had been killed I knew it was time to come
I caught the first plane back to the states and was greeted
by Harold our shopher at the airport. I wasn't surprised that
my father hadn't come. Even though it took the death of my
brother to make me return home, he still wouldn't give me the
pleasure of open arms and a big hug. I remained quiet through
most of the trip to the house, though an occasional word from
Harold's mouth made me want to comment here and there. Soon
we rounded a corner and I could see the house in plain view.
It looked the same and yet it didn't. It seemed to have grown
darker, could it be that my father's sullen mood had affected
the appearance of the house? I doubt it, probably just my subconscious
announcing how displeased it was to be home.
We pulled up to the front door and I quickly noticed
the sound of dogs barking. This was odd because I knew
for a fact that my father had always loathed the idea
of owning a dog and wouldn't change his mind no matter
how many times I begged. Could it be that he had changed
a little? Things looked up. I went through the front
door and stopped to see if the house had changed at
all. Nothing seemed different, actually if you could
imagine an old style mansion then that would be our
house. I believe the architecture is called Victorian.
Harold came in a minute later with my suitcase and
informed me that my father was up in the library.
I inhaled a long breath and made my way up he stairs.
At the top I turned left and walked down the hall lined
with old portraits of our ancestors. I could still
remember my father giving lectures on each the Rebholz
men. Oh yes, that's my last name, Rebholz. I reached
the door to the library and took one more long breath
before entering. I opened the door and went on to my
future. My father was sitting at his desk off to the
left of the door. There top of the desk was hidden
beneath a litter of papers. My father looked up at
me and stared for a moment before saying a word.
"Hello Ray." He said in a very dry tone. "Hello father." "I'm
glad you could find time in your busy schedule to come
home and pay your respects, Lord knows you wouldn't
come home for any other reason." "I didn't come home
to listen to you berate me about my life. I could listen
to you do that over the phone. I loved my brother and
I miss him dearly. But I don't feel up to arguing with
you about old problems. I am going to my room now." "Before
you go I want you to know that since Chris is dead
and no longer he first in line to get the estate I
am giving it to you. This means you will have to remain
here after the funeral." I knew he was going to do
this, any way he can find to make my life miserable
he will do it. I stared at him for a second then exited
the room. After I did that everything I wanted to say
came into my head. Though if I went back now it would
turn into an argument and that is not what I wanted
to do. I was home for my brother, not to revisit old
wounds. I spent the next few hours in my room unpacking
and thinking about Chris. He always had time for me,
always ready to lend an ear. Now that he was gone I
didn't know if I could handle being here.
Though I knew that if he were here he would tell me
to suck it up and learn to deal with it. He would say
I couldn't keep running from every little problem I
had with father. So if he wants me to take over the
estate then I'll do that. But I am going to run it
my own way. Besides, I am done with school and it wasn't
though I had a steady job while I was there. Maybe
I will go back someday, but for now I will take care
of this. That night I went to bed soon after I ate,
I was tired from my flight and couldn't stand listening
to my father much longer. I awoke the next morning
to the sound of the dogs again. As I lay there I realized
that when I was a child there were always dogs barking
near our house.
I hadn't heard it in so long that I had actually forgotten
about it. Maybe that's why father never wanted a dog,
because he couldn't stand the sound of the dogs so
why would he want one directly in the house? Well no
matter, perhaps while I am home I will find out where
they are coming from. But the funeral is today and
I must prepare for that. So I got dressed and went
on down to the main floor where I me with my father
who was ready and had been waiting for me. We went
out and got into the car and Harold took us on down
the small hill towards the town. There were actually
many people at the funeral, I was surprised because
father never much had guests at the house nor did he
socialize in town much. Though there were a great deal
of young girls moaning quite loudly. I was not surprised
because Chris was usually a hit with the girls.
Afterwards we both left and went back
to the house. Father said he didn't want to stand around
and talk to the "gossip mongers." The rest of the day passed
slowly, I tried to think about other things but I kept
focusing on Chris. I felt as though I was trapped in
some giant prison in which I could walk about freely
but couldn't get out of. It was very frustrating. Around
six o'clock my father knocked on my door and told me
come to the library with him. I had funny feeling this
was the part where he tells me what my responsibilities
were now that the estate was mine. I was wrong. I sat
myself down at the chair closest to his desk and watched
as he stood facing the shelves for a moment. I was
about to ask him "Now what?" when he started to talk.
" Well I am sure you're thinking I am
going to talk to you about what your responsible to do now
that the estate is yours, but your wrong. I want to tell
you what really happened to Chris and tell you what you're
really inheriting. You and I have never been close
but that's mostly my fault. I resented you and Chris
because you were both nothing like me. You both were
like our ancestors who decorate our hall. For some
reason I was the only one who was different from all
of you. When Chris was born I knew what he was from
the moment I saw him. I hated him for it, but when
I found out that your mother was pregnant again it
gave me some hope of having a son that was like me.
"I just wanted this feeling of being alone to go away.
But then when you were born and obviously like your
brother, I knew then that I would never have any more
children that could be like me. Since Chris was the
oldest I decided to put all my energy into his upbringing.
I resented you because you were the final proof that
I would keep having children that wouldn't be like
me. I'm sorry for that, because now I don't know you
at all and it's my fault." This was it, I knew he had
finally gone nuts, Chris' death was the final straw.
I needed to get out of this room and away from this
"Your brother was always reckless, chasing all those
girls everywhere. You saw them at the funeral today.
He wasn't careful. That's what cost him his life. He
knew what he was and that I wasn't like at an early
age. Once he knew what he was, he knew that you were
like him too. That's why he treated you so nicely.
He wasn't alone like I was." "Father what the hell
are you talking about? What was Chris, what am I?" He
finally turned his head away from the bookshelf and
looked at me. He stared at me for what seemed like
an eternity and then finally uttered these words:
"You, like Chris, are a werewolf."
My mouth must have hit the floor because it felt like
a giant weight had just dragged it open. I couldn't
seem to find the will to speak. Nothing came to mind
I had no clue how to respond to such a statement. What
scared me the most was the way he stared at me. He
truly believed what he had just said. When I finally
began to gather my thoughts I realized I should keep
him talking so I could devise a way to subdue him.
"You said that Chris had died some other way
than what you had told me on the phone. Please
explain this to me?" "Chris liked to go out and
hunt during the night hours, he liked the old
legends of werewolves old coming out during a
full moon. So he would only go out during those
nights. Well eventually the town caught on and
realized what was killing their livestock. Chris
became more and more reckless as time passed.
He didn't fear the townspeople or what they might
do. The last night he was alive he had invaded
a farmer's house and started killing the family.
He was nearing the master bedroom when the farmer
who was hiding on the other side of the door
blew a hole with his shotgun, right through the
door. Chris was hit in the stomach, but was able
to escape. He hadn't even gotten near the house
when he finally collapsed and died. I told the
town the next day that Chris had seen the monster
in the woods and gone after it but never returned.
"They all gave their condolences, saying
that Chris was a brave man and always a joy to the
town. I don't know why they believed me but they
did and I was actually happy they did, because
it meant they wouldn't hunt me down like they
would have Chris. I doubt you have tapped into
your wolf yet, but you will. Then you can take
over the estate from me."
At this I finally stood and looked him directly
in the eye calling a mad man. I turned walked
to the door. My father shouted for me to stop
but I didn't and I left the house, heading directly
for town. I went to Chris' grave and stood there
for a while. I thought about everything my father
had said and wondered where he had come up with
such an idea. Eventually I looked up and realized
the sun had set. I thought it best to return
home before it gets too late. As I walked the
down the main street that led to the road which
went up to my house I, I heard some footsteps
I didn't take much notice for this town wasn't
much for violence. Though I lifted my nose a
little and sniffed the air. I could detect a
certain stench in the air it was alcohol. As
I began to slow down I was grabbed by several
hands and thrown into an alley. I stumbled a
few feet and turned myself around to see three
young men standing with a slight slant to their
posture. I started to say something when the
one on the left walked right up to me and threw
his fist into my stomach. I fell to my knees
holding my arms around my belly when a foot landing
in my side. This knocked me onto the ground and
that's when I felt all three of them around me.
One of them held my arms, while the other held
my legs. The third reached into my slacks and
fumbled to get my wallet out. I struggled the
whole time, trying to loosen their grip on me.
The increasing failure of my struggling led to
my frustration, which led to my anger that led
to my transformation. It started in my hands
and felt like the inner core of the sun. I howled
in pain and rage, I pulled my arms towards me
and in doing so ripped the arms from his sockets.
I hit the round; the shock of seeing
this made the individual holding my legs drop them. I was
quickly back on my feet and crashed straight
into the man who was now screaming for God. I
tore right through his shirt, directly into his
chest, which exposed his rib cage. I punched
a hole through that and pulled out his heart.
I turned around and grabbed " no arms" by the
neck. I squeezed with all my strength crushing
the bones within. Just before this the third
man who had grabbed my wallet had started running.
I howled my excitement and took off after him.
I followed his disgusting scent, which led me
past the last few houses and up the path towards
my house. He hadn't gotten that far up it before
I reached him. I smashed into his back and pushed
him down onto the ground. I stood on all fours
directly over him. I turned his quivering body
over and stared right into his small green eyes.
I howled out a great triumphant song and then
tore out his throat. I stood up onto my hind
legs, blood dripping from fangs, strength coursing
through my body.
I licked back the blood from my mouth and felt
my body go limp. I was changing back, calming
down; all the new sensations seemed to fade away.
Becoming human again wasn't as painful as going
the other way. I stood there a moment, completely
naked, wondering how I had gone through life
being human. This new form was so exhilarating.
I felt such a connection to everything around
me. I bent down picked up my wallet and headed
up towards the house. That night I spoke with
my father and he explained the rest of the family
history to me.
Our family had always lived in this house, all
of our ancestors and all of our future generations
will. For some reason father, out of all of our
ancestors, was born without the ability to change.
His father had hated him for that and so they
were both estranged while he grew up. When he
married he had hoped to have a son like him so
he wouldn't feel so out of place. He died a few
months after I had discovered my gift. When the
time is right I will find a mate and have children,
they will most likely have the gift. I will teach
them well. I know now who I am and what I must
do. I won't be as reckless as Chris nor as unkind
as my father won't. It is my time now and I have
many nights ahead of me.